Share those memories with me
by movesthroughmoonbeams
Summary: because you know i'll understand. - "Sofia. That was my mother's name, Sofia." Kurt/Finn Eventually Threeshot, drabble. Mostly Finn's POV in chapter one, alters between the two occasionally. Kurt's POV in chapter 2. Takes place post-Theatricallity.
1. Chapter 1

Apparently Finn had fallen asleep, because the next thing he knew he was staring at the ceiling with the distinct, thick taste of sleep in his mouth and covered in a blanket he hadn't remembered putting on.  
He sat up a little too quickly, the room spinning for a second before he took focus on the dark shape of Kurt's bed. He stood up, only really noticing the blanket fell off when he felt cold again. He shrugged it off and sluggishly made his way up the stairs, wanting one thing and one thing only; Food.  
God he was hungry.  
And they had left over pizza. Awesome.

Finn should've picked it up, even if he was half asleep and hardly even registering where he was, he should've picked it up. I mean, why else would the lights be on, softly dimmed no less, and the door to the lounge room closed at all hours in the morning?  
But, he was only thinking of food and stopping the growling of his stomach when he shoved the left over pepperoni slices in the microwave and crunched a few buttons.  
He half listened to the soft hum of the microwave but was more focused on how strange the light looked, half blurred by his tiredness.  
Why was there a light on so late? There wasn't normally. Finn hadn't turned it on.  
He blinked slowly.  
Oh, what was that noise?  
It was coming from the lounge room.  
Finn drifted over to the doors and pressed an ear against them, listening as hard as he could through the cloud of sleep that hadn't seemed to have left yet.  
He could hear the soft murmurs of voices he couldn't recognise on the TV, but he heard something else, something that was probably not as soft as it sounded hiding under the voices.  
Someone was crying, it was a distinct sound Finn had heard far too much lately.  
For a second he was wondering who it was, slowly Finn could feel the clogs in his head turning.

Kurt.

Before Finn knew it he slammed the doors open, with more force than intended, and as he watched a very startled Kurt stare at him he felt himself spring to life, all thoughts of going back to sleep drenched by... tears.  
Kurt's jaw shook as he looked up to the taller teen "F-Finn?"  
Finn felt something drop as he saw how wet Kurt's cheeks and how puffy and red his eyes were.  
He suddenly felt an eerie kind of coldness, way too cold for July, especially in Ohio, creep down into his gut.  
The first thing he thought of was _that _night; that stupid, stupid night where he redefined the words 'douche' and 'bag'.

Gaga, KISS, blankets, lamps, privacy partitions, one very angry Burt and poor Kurt, shot down as soon as he tried to defend Finn and stop what he'd seen coming.  
Finn shuddered in the doorway, his large frame shaking.

Even after Finn had managed to put his guilt to rest for a while after stopping those _assholes _Azimio and Karofsky from bashing Kurt in a very Gaga-esque manor that he was sure made Kurt proud, it all came back a hundred times worse when he heard Kurt cry himself to sleep that night.  
Then the next, and the next, and the next.  
Eventually it stopped, and things seemed like they were normal, but there was a painful distance between the two of them that even left Finn biting back tears sometimes.

"...alright, Finn?" Kurt's voice brought him back to the present, the boy's, now wiped, eyes staring up at his own.  
"Oh... Sorry, Kurt... Whatd'ya say?" Finn's mouth twitched oddly as he tried to smile, albeit sheepishly, but his mouth just _wouldn't _work at 3AM.  
Kurt pushed out a strained but patient sigh and his stare fell back to the TV.  
"I said, Finn, that you need to go back to sleep. To put this as kindly as I can, you look like a peahen threw up on you."  
Finn looked to the wall then back to Kurt, his eyebrows raised in a blank kind of confusion.  
"A...peahen?"  
Kurt nodded, his eyes still focused on the TV.  
"Female peacocks. The drab ones."  
Finn just chuckled one of his awkward chuckles and smiled along, because drab was probably a good thing, right?  
"Well uh..." Finn stared, getting choked up when Kurt looked to him.  
"Yes?"  
"I don't want to sleep...I... can't sleep more..." He grumbled.  
Finn must've sounded stupid, or childish, or whiney or something, because for some reason Kurt chuckled.  
"And why not Finn?" Kurt said, sounding oddly amused.  
"...'cause I saw you crying..." He mumbled, eyes glued on his thick grey socks.  
Finn dared to look up, and cursed mentally as all amusement seemed to have been sucked out of Kurt's face like he was attacked by some kind of happiness vacuum.  
It wasn't like the happiness vacuum made him look _sad_, but more... guarded.  
Kurt looked back to the TV before speaking again.  
"Just go Finn... I heard the microwave a while ago... Eat and go back to sleep."  
Finn squeezed his eyes shut, wondering whether or not he could –no, _should_ cross this line, then opened them again, looking decisively determined as he took two steps over to the couch –as that was all it took for the frankenteen to sweep half the room– and sat down next to the soprano.  
"But..I don't want to leave you... You're still... s-sad about _that_... right?"

Kurt blinked, and then tears just started flowing.

"Whoa, K-Kurt, dude," Finn rested his hand on Kurt's back, retracting it as soon as Kurt let out a shaky sob. "I...I'm sorry man I..." Finn looked away. What was he meant to say?  
I'm sorry for being such a damn homophobe and taking shit out on you, I hope we can be BFF now?  
Finn shook his head.  
"No..." Kurt choked out as he wiped his eyes, still looking at the TV.  
"Not... Not that." He sniffed, took a deep breath and tried to regain his posture.  
Finn opened his mouth, about to ask a question, but was just silenced when Kurt pointed half-heartedly to the TV he'd been so interested in.  
The screen was paused on a close up of shockingly beautiful woman, a smile stretched over her face. She had big eyes that were holding the most unique shade of blue, or was it green? Her eyelashes were long and brought her eyes out in a way Finn had only seen on a few girls.  
Her face was rounded and soft, it had no sharp edges or bones, and she was terribly pale, but noting that the background was full of buildings, colourful green trees and footpaths covered in piles of snow, she might have just been cold.  
Her hair was long and dark, framing her face; giving her a soft kind of beauty.  
She had a grey beanie on lopsidedly, and was dressed in one of those black puffy ski jackets people wear in winter.  
Finn blinked a few times, and then turned to Kurt, whose eyes were still focused on the woman's.  
"Who's...?" Finn asked, but Kurt cut him off.  
"Sofia." A strange kind of accent Finn hadn't heard Kurt use before clung to the name.  
"That was my mother's name. Sofia."  
"...Oh." Was all Finn could say. Even if he'd gone silent, things we're piecing together in his head now.  
"Everyone just called her Sophie though." Kurt said with a dreamy smile, wiping away a fresh tear, nostalgia getting the better of him.  
Staring at Kurt, the first thing to blubber out of Finn's mouth was "C-Can I watch it?"  
Finn didn't know what he was expecting, whether it was a slap in the face or one of those Kurtish glares that made him feel 10 inches tall, the thing he was _not_ expecting was Kurt to stare at him, then just nod.  
Finn leaned back further into the couch and Kurt followed suit, pulling up his legs so he was in the foetal position.  
Finn made sure he _did not_ notice how small Kurt looked, tangling his arms around his legs, and how fragile and vulnerable he looked with his tear stained cheeks and puffy eyes.  
He pressed the rewind button, the blues, blacks, greens and whites from an obviously very Christmassy morning zooming back in a blur.  
Kurt stopped it, mumbling a quiet "It doesn't go for very long..." before hitting play.

A small boy ran through the snow, his red boots coming in and out of the piles of white, round face beaming with joy.  
"_Kurt!_" The woman from before –Kurt's mother, Sofia– scooped the red-jacket-clad boy into her arms, twirling him around.  
The camera shook as a low laugh came from a face he couldn't see, the camera man – Burt, Finn guessed– walked around in the snow, crunch crunch crunch, to get a good view on the scene.  
She pulled the boys face next to hers so their cheeks were touching as the camera zoomed in, black hair against brown hair, their eyes in the same bright, bluey-green hue.  
"Say hi to Daddy, Kurt" Sofia said in her thick German accent, staring at her son with something that could only be described as _love._  
"Hi Daddy!" Kurt waved a small gloved hand frantically to the camera, and Finn felt his own laugh mimic Sofia's.  
Sofia stepped away from the camera, still holding her son as she sat on the snow-laced brick wall behind her.  
Kurt shifted into his mother's lap and played with her hair.  
"I always thought her hair was pretty, you know..." Kurt, present day Kurt, said, pausing the video.  
Finn looked away from the screen once again to Kurt, to see that eerie sadness Kurt so often had around him when he spoke of his mother.  
"I was really sad when she started losing it... I remember one day I was just playing with it like I always did and a big clump fell out, right into my hand... Mummy–" Kurt looked slightly flustered for a moment. "M-Mum...-"  
"...I-I don't care what you call her." Finn cut in. He didn't mean to cut in, but he hated seeing Kurt have to drop a term of endearment for something as small as well... seeming childish.  
"I still call my Dad Daddy sometimes... even if I never knew him. Like... sometimes when I can't sleep I just lie there and talk to him... Ask him how he is up there..."  
For the first time that night Kurt tore his eyes away from the screen and smiled.  
"Mm. I know... I've heard, you know." Kurt saw how uncomfortable Finn looked, so, much to his chagrin he averted his eyes from the football players.  
"Well..." He looked back to the screen and continued his story.  
"She...She cried. Then I cried too, because I thought I hurt her." Kurt's smile turned sour.  
"Then she started getting all these wigs and I hated it... Blonde was never her colour..."  
Finn squeezed Kurt's shoulder, then dropped his hand to his side.  
"...I get it."  
Kurt nodded a small nod.  
"I know..."  
They shared a brief, awkward moment of silence before Kurt pressed play.  
"Now, Kurten, what do you want for Christmas?" She looked down to her son and he looked up at her, cheeks rosy.  
"I...I want to be a..." baby Kurt's little eyebrows knitted together and he pouted in the cutest way Finn had ever seen.  
Wait, Kurt? Cute? Wait... this was baby Kurt, so that was ok right?  
R-Right...  
"P..Puh... Pwincess!"  
Sofia laughed and so did Burt, albeit awkwardly, behind the camera.  
"Is that so?"  
She turned Kurt around and lifted him up, kissing his nose.  
"Mein kleiner Sohn Kurt ist schöner als jede Prinzessin." Sofia said in a language Finn didn't recognise, hugging her son again.

Kurt laughed humourlessly beside him.  
"Nein, du warst schön, Mutter..." He mumbled.  
Finn stared at the boy beside him, wide eyed.  
"Whoa... Did you just... get what she was saying?" Ok, Finn kind of blurted that out in a moment that seemed really, _really_ private and serious, but... wow...  
"Hm?" Kurt turned to him. "Oh, yes. My mother was German... I... knew little bits and pieces of the language before she...- "Kurt cleared his throat."-died, but only joined classes after the... incident. As a small tribute to her and our heritage, I suppose..." Somewhere through that sentence Kurt's eyes had travelled back to the screen as mother and son twirled in the snow.

Burt cleared his throat behind the camera."Soph, battery's almost dead." The pair stopped, swaying from stopping so quickly.  
"Oh!" Sofia lifted her son into her arms and hurried up to the camera.  
"Ready, baby?" Kurt nodded, full of energy.  
"Fröhliche Weihnachten!" They said in unison, Kurt's words a little jumbled, but still audible, waving bye to the camera as the video stopped.

The video had stopped; it had stopped for a while now. Kurt had turned the TV off entirely, actually, and the two of them were sitting there in silence.  
"Hey, Kurt? What was it you guys were saying?" Finn's raspy voice sounds through the silence.  
"... Well, Merry Christmas of course. Did you miss the umpteen ghastly decorated trees in the background, Finn?" Kurt says, that usual –though dulled for Finn's sake– scepticism on his tongue.  
Though that was news to Finn...  
What? Give him some credit!  
I mean it was in a different language, how was he meant to know? Even if there were Christmas trees, maybe it was different in Germany – wait, were they even in Germany in the clip? Well, that was beside the point...  
Though that was news to Finn, it wasn't the answer he wanted.  
"I..I mean before. When she... picked you up and stuff. And.. What did you say before in German? Y'know... present time?" Finn's eyes were glued to Kurt's, waiting for an answer.  
"B-Before..." Kurt began; an unnatural stammer in his voice as he noticed the intensity of Finn's gaze. Why was he being so serious over something as minuscule as a few German words tossed around in memories?  
"Before, after I said I wanted to be a... Princess –" Kurt smiled a small smile, half embarrassed, half nostalgic "–she said I was more beautiful than any princess."  
"..Oh." Finn said again, though he wanted to say much more he couldn't really think of words to describe it.  
The thing was, the first thought to come in to his head was 'yeah, he is.'; maybe that shocked him speechless.  
"Th...Then what did you say...?" Finn finally choked out after another round of silence.  
"She was always the beautiful one... that's what I said, Finn."  
Silence was coming again. It stayed for a while, until they didn't mind the silence any more.

Finn didn't know how long it took, but eventually he felt sleep pulling him down.  
He was biting, licking and eating away at his already chapped lips for what felt like hours, until he felt a small pulse of life in his hand, he slowly, cautiously wrapped it over Kurt's small, long, fragile fingers, his hand feeling cool in his own.  
"I... thought she was... right..." was the last thing to be said out of clumsy Finn Hudson's lips, before sleep pulled them both down into its depths.

Carole finally gave in to Burt's groaning for bacon and eggs, and even settled to bring it to him in bed.  
Carole sighed, shaking her head with a soft grin.  
Something about that man made her feel like the complete love struck teenager she was when she met Finn's Dad, and she had to say she was loving the feeling, despite how much being in a relationship with Burt was almost like raising a second son at times.  
"The light's are on?" Carole questioned to no one in particular, walking down the hallway she spied the open lounge room doors and popped her curler-filled head in to have a look.  
The next thing she knew she was dragging Burt behind her, grinning like the Cheshire Cat.  
"Look, honey!" Carole squealed in an excited, hushed whisper.  
"Ugh?" Burt rubbed his groggy eyes and yawned, then, it wasn't only Carole with tears in her eyes.  
There they were, Kurt's head lying on Finn's shoulder, Finn's arm wrapped loosely around Kurt's small form, pulling him close. Finn's prized football jacket draped over the both of them like a blanket.  
Burt sniffed and wiped an eye, smiling awkwardly and hugging the tear-filled Carole beside him.  
He so chivalrously decided bacon and eggs could wait, and they left their sons in peace.

Finn really needed to learn how to remember when he fell asleep, because once again he found himself waking up with no memory of actually falling asleep in the first place.  
Though he had no idea what time it was, he was oddly comfortable with his arm draped around someone–Kurt, if slow, low processing memory served correct– and he realised his football jacket made a pretty awesome blanket.  
He moved his heavy head to meet the stunning eyes of his gleemate.  
They blinked, both flushed, and looked away.  
"G-Good Morning, Finn..." Kurt said quietly.  
" M..Mornin'.. Kurt." Finn tried to sound as happy as he could, but he couldn't shake that stupid uncertainty off.  
Kurt made a small noise, a squeak, that even Finn could tell was slightly pained, and reluctantly pushed his body away from Finn's incredibly comforting warmth.  
Only to be pulled back again, a little too hard, another squeak coming from the soprano.  
"S...Sorry..." Finn choked.  
"I... you're.. just... w-warm." He grinned that awkward grin he wanted to pull off all last night, gaining one of Kurt's pink-faced smiles.

Neither of them knew how long they'd just laid there, and Finn had no idea in hell how he'd started absentmindedly playing with Kurt's hair, enjoying listening to the sound of his slick, smooth breaths.  
"Hey Kurt?"  
"Y-Yeah?"  
"That German sounded really cool last night. Can you say something else so I can listen?"  
Kurt laughed and nodded.  
"Ich liebe dich."  
Finn smiled.  
"...Awesome."  
Now all he had to do was find a good German to English dictionary. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Ok, well... Wow.** **I have no idea how to start or end this little Authors comment thing, but I guess I could start by saying this was definitely meant to stay a oneshot.  
Though someone _actually_ asked me to add another chapter. To say I felt flattered would be an understatement.  
They preffered to stay anonymous, sadly, but they left somewhat of a prompt for me to go by. **

**Well, i do have another chapter intended, but I dunno, would it be alright just like this?  
Please tell me your opinion if you can spare the time. **

**Kurt's POV this time.**

"Come _on, _Kurt!" Finns groaned to the boy behind him.  
"Calm _down_ Finn. Honestly you're such a child…" Kurt's sentence trailed into a sigh as he followed Finn down the steps of his basement.  
Yeah, Finn's basement, the basement of his old house.  
Well, Kurt doubted Finn would describe it as his _old_ house; considering he obviously has enough of an attachment to it to beg –Yes, _beg_, no exaggeration– his mother not to sell it. Though, Mrs. Hudson's a strong woman, she doesn't cave easily. They met half way.  
She wouldn't sell the house until they were sure of what to do with everything inside it.  
And Finn nodded like a poor child with terrets, saying that they wouldn't even let those real estate douche bags– his words, not Kurt's– look at their house without putting a flamethrower to them until they got everything, his fathers chair in particular, to a safe place.  
And that safe place was their bedroom back at Kurt's house, apparently.  
The only place Finn could "keep an eye on it" all the time.  
Though some might think it over the top, Kurt could only find Finn's protectiveness of the chair endearing, much to his annoyance.  
He wanted to get over Finn, he really did. Well, maybe he didn't want to, maybe he just _needed _to for his own damn sanity.

Unfortunately, that hadn't seemed to be working out for him.

"Uh… Kurt, dude? You ok there? Dude… A..Are you going to have a blood nose or something? I can get tissues-" Finn asked, slightly hysterical, Kurt might add, watching as Kurt pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head.  
"Oh." He straightened his posture and neatened his bangs.  
"No, no, Finn. I'm fine." He tried to send a reassuring smile to Finn, and the jock sent an awkward one back.  
"Good, cause… you know, wouldn't want you bleeding on the carpet." He grinned, surprisingly shrewdly, and Kurt rolled his eyes.  
"Oh no, what a nightmare!" He punched the jock half-heartedly in the arm, Finn flinched, but Kurt was certain it hurt his hand more than it did Finn's arm.  
"So," Kurt huffed, looking around the room.  
"There's something you wanted to show me, I take it?"

Finn grinned and nodded vigorously; he darted around out of Kurt's sight and dragged a heavy chest across the floor, trying to place it as gently as he could, like the heavy chest was made of glass, in the middle of the floor.  
"Here." Finn stood up, his grin wider than normal.  
"...A...chest?" Kurt was... surprised, if anything. But it's not like he hadn't expected something like this. It's Finn we're talking about, he _defined_ "out there".  
Along with gorgeous, generous, athletic... Oh god. He really couldn't help himself could he?  
"No no!" Finn waved his arms around. "You remember, don't you Kurt? When you helped me other with that dinner at," Kurt didn't miss how Finn's eyes flickered "Q-Quinn's place, you know, you helped me choose what to wear with your... sixth sense... for clothes, or whatever..." Finn's face had fell from its usual sheepish smile to that saddening face of his, he didn't look _pained_ per se, and if a casual onlooker would most likely suspect him to just be confused, but Kurt knew, and Kurt wanted to spare him the pain of thinking about _her.  
_  
"I know what you mean Finn, I remember." Kurt smiled, and Finn sent a loose one back.  
How could he forget? That was one of the rare moments he spent with Finn. Finn _Hudson._ Star quarterback, lady-killer—Kurt smiled, albeit bitter sweetly, to himself, supposing man-killer would also be appropriate, all things considering.  
Kurt strode over to the chest, crouching down and running his finger along the fine brass rim of the chest, surprised no dust was collected.  
"Yes. I definitely remember Finn. This is your father's memorabilia, correct? Yes, the one with great taste." Kurt chuckled.  
"Mawm-ri-billa?" Finn scratched the back of his head.  
"Memorabilia," Kurt corrected "his 'stuff'."  
Kurt tried to hold back a laugh when he heard Finn's "Oooohhhh."  
"Well yeah," Finn walked up next to him and Kurt stood up. "It's his stuff."  
Kurt nodded.  
"And why exactly are you showing me this? Let me guess..." Kurt tapped his chin, putting on his best expression of 'deep thought'. "You have a date with Rachel tonight which you are hoping to end on a note that is rather steamy, so to make a good impression on her fathers' you want to _at least_ wear your father's suit, correct? Oh, and you want me to find a nice tie to match?" Kurt's lip tugged into one of his coy side smiles.  
Finn blinked, a plain look of surprise on his face.  
"Nope... Not at all. For once Kurt, you were right out the ball park." Finn laughed one of his awkward laughs.  
Kurt's smile was wiped off just like that.  
"Oh."

He thought of possibilities.  
Maybe he told Quinn how he felt about the whole baby gate and that he forgave her and maybe he was secretly dating Quinn behind Rachel's back. Maybe he started up that thing with Santana again because he wasn't getting enough from Rachel, maybe he started something up with Brittany as well. Maybe he started something up with Santana _and_ Brittany.  
Hell, for all Kurt knew he could very well have started something up with _Puck_!  
"Kurt? Dude, _breathe!"_  
Kurt gasped, god, he'd hardly even realised he'd _stopped.  
_"You alright?" Finn shook Kurt's shoulders, Kurt wanted to tell him to stop or he'd kick his ass for touching his Alexander McQueen, but he didn't trust himself with an open mouth at the moment.  
Kurt held back to urge to slap his hands off and gently pushed them down instead, gathering himself and neatening his already perfectly neat fringe.  
"I'm _fine,_ Finn. Now please tell me who you're hooking up with this week so I can just get this over and done with." Oh, damn. That came with more venom than intended. It wasn't like the standard _Rachel_ venom or something, because that was fierce, this was more the usual Neanderthal tone, one he'd hoped he'd never use around Finn.  
But, Finn just laughed.  
Weird. It was like Finn was immune to venom.  
Kurt smiled, thinking back to a certain red shower curtain. Finn really was a super hero, wasn't he?  
"I'm not hooking up with _anyone_ Kurt. You know I'm loyal to Rachel," That hurt Kurt more than it should have, hell, it shouldn't have hurt him at all "besides, I wouldn't wanna waste your time on somethin' like that. Don't you have ... err... face... stuff, to put on soon anyway?"

"Moisturiser?" Kurt suggested.

"Yeah, that." Another awkward smile.

"Well," A laugh parted Kurt's words "I _do_ have a regular schedule to uphold, but I'm sure I can spare some time for _you_ of all people, Finn Hudson."  
Finn looked... awkward.  
Now, that wasn't an irregular thing, Kurt had seen the jock look awkward many a time before, but this was _that_ kind of awkward.  
That 'you're creeping me out' kind of awkward that he'd gotten so often from the nicer of the community.  
Ugh. Was Kurt honestly flirting _subconsciously_ now? So much for lying off the creepy.  
A sudden gush of relief swept over him when Finn gave him that smile and nod, it was cautious, slow, but it was there.  
"A-Anyway, I was thinking, you know, last week? How... err... you were watching videos of your Mum?"  
Kurt remembered. Another one of those things he just wouldn't forget. He didn't know whether to cry at the videos or blush at how he woke up held by the person who he gave his heart to.  
No he just kept on his mask and nodded.  
"And... Well, I thought it was really cool you were willing to share that with me... y'know? So, I wanted to share some of my Dad's stuff with you too, as... as a.. payback? No, that's the bad one... Is there a good version of payback?"  
Kurt didn't know what it felt like to be breathless really, even if he _had _stopped breathing moments ago, that was because he was shocked, that was different.  
And he sure as hell knew what it felt like to have the wind knocked out of you, but that was different too.  
This was more like Finn grabbed his brain, jumbled it all up and then shoved it back into his head so he was just a blubbering mess of repeated stammers.  
"I-Oh...Fi- I-N-No..." We're probably the most intelligible of them all.  
Finn just cocked his head in a way that melted all of Kurt's stammers away.  
"Well... Finn, that's... that's so terribly sweet," Kurt swore he heard Finn mumble "How can being sweet be terrible...?" under his breath. "but I, I... Finn... that's... they're something so precious to you... I..."  
Finn looked confused.

"The videos were precious to you..."

"Well, yes, but that's different..."

"How? Yours was about a Mum and mine was about a Dad?"

Kurt couldn't reply to that. For once Finn had a very, very valid point.

"If... If you're ok with it..." Kurt mumbled, retreating.  
Finn's stupidly adorable grin was back, and somehow one was sneaking on Kurt's lips too.  
After a moment of an awkward silence that had become all too familiar to the boys, Finn finally opened the old chest and –with much care, Kurt might add– placed item after item around the floor.

Then, Finn took the role of mentor and pointed to each of the items that surrounded them, one after another he told the story of how each of them were used, and they all had their quirky little tales led to one thing after the other— Kurt could imagine Finn describing it as if it were like dominos— and then Finn was just belting out fact after fact of his father, and Kurt was lapping it all up like a dog, Kurt loved seeing Finn like this, he loved seeing a new light to Finn.  
Yes, Finn had many lights; he was like a miniature version of the sun, it was simply mesmerising.  
There was his Rachel light, filled with an almost childish curiousity, his football light, that only appeared and could only be described as two people rambling about something they mutually adore, somewhat, Kurt noted, like how two fans of the "Twilight" nonsense would converse.  
Then there was his Quinn light, Kurt remembered his Quinn light.  
That was perhaps, the brightest of them all.  
It's dim now— no, it's nonexistent now, but when it was there it was so, so bright.  
When he saw her he lit up like a light bulb, he brought her close, twirled her, kissed her, touched her steadily growing stomach; did _something_ to prove his love for her like he was being constantly tested.

And Kurt supposed he was, somewhat.

He was tested as the quarterback; he was tested to see if he could live up to being the Captain of the Cheerleaders boyfriend, if they really _were_ a couple made in bad teen movie heaven.  
If he could be supportive, if he could _really_ be a good father for Drizzle—no, for Beth, sorry.

Kurt thought Drizzle sounded so much better.

His thoughts were knocked out of him when something made contact with his head, and while he was scrambling them back together, the first one to surface was that he was just punched square in the head and he needed to return the favour.  
But he realised with much embarrassment that it was only Finn shoving his Dad's helmet on his head, and half of the 'pain' Kurt felt was surprise.  
God he could be an idiot, but, a fabulous one, at least.  
Kurt laughed; this was all too similar to the time he came here before, once again this helmet was on his head.  
And this time he kept it on, despite the fact it was layered in dust, the dust told the same stories Finn did, and Kurt loved the way Finn smiled lopsidedly at him when he was wearing this hat.  
It reminded Kurt of the look he gave him when he put the football helmet on him.

Funny, in hindsight, Finn really seemed to like putting things on Kurt's head.

It also reminded him of the look he gave him shortly after the helmet was on, when he told him red was his colour.  
And yes, Kurt was in fact wearing a red cardigan, with a simple dress shirt and tie underneath, impossibly tight black jeans, and his best Gucci shoes.  
He wore red around Finn allot lately, in fact, it had almost become an act of his subconscious; _Oh, I'll be seeing Finn today, better wear red._  
It was almost embarrassing to think his feelings had grown that much, but after everything, after his Mother died, after his rocky relationship with his father and suffering through day after day of abuse from certain letterman jacket-clad ogres, he was just glad to be feeling.  
Now, he knew Finn wouldn't notice this little gesture of adoration, he knew he himself didn't really realise he was doing it either, but, as people say about terrible Christmas presents, it's the thought that counts.

Kurt was staring at Finn until he didn't know exactly what he was staring at anymore, his eyes had become unfocused, I mean, he knew Finn was there of course, he just didn't know why the light catching in Finn's hair was so remarkably _intriguing.  
_Somehow he was dreaming of cowering in fear, two disgusting goblins sneering at him, then being rescued by a mysterious prince with red armour, and grinning as a long haired maiden sobbed in the distance, crushed with jealousy.  
He was grinning like the Cheshire cat.  
"Uh... Kurt?"  
Finn waved his hand in front of Kurt's face, and Kurt blinked, snapping back into reality, into the basement, until something else caught his attention.  
"What's this?" Kurt slipped his fingers under the chain and held the metal up to the light, trying to read what was engraved on it.  
"Those are..." Finn took the chain from Kurt's hand, obviously missing the way Kurt's heart tripped over itself when their hands brushed.  
"...dog tags. Dad's, dog tags..."  
Kurt didn't know much about the military, heck, he knew as much about it as Finn did fashion, but he knew dog tags had the names of the solider and what unit they were in, didn't they?  
The light caught the tags.  
"Christopher Hudson..." Kurt mumbled, the words slowly as he read them.  
Finn's smile was still there, but it looked washed out.  
He nodded solemnly. "Yup, that's him alright..."  
Kurt's eyebrows would have pushed together if it weren't for the crease etched between them.  
This time, it was Kurt's turn to push boundaries.  
He pushed his side against Finn's, their bodies finally touching; he wrapped a hand of Finn's in both of his and let it rest in his lap.  
Kurt would be lying if he said he didn't noticed how Finn tensed at the touch, but he'd be an even bigger liar if he said he didn't notice the small smile that followed.

They just stayed there like that, Kurt staring at Finn, Finn staring at Kurt.  
If this had been an ideal moment, if this had been something cut straight from a chick flick, Kurt would've grown a pair and pressed his lips to Finn, whispering all the things that made the world beautiful into his ear, cradled him in his arms like the big baby he was and sung him to sleep.  
But this wasn't some trashy romcom; it was reality.  
And he knew he wasn't the only one hurting right now.  
So instead of professing his deep and meaningful love for Finn and pretending it would be reciprocated, he just sung. He sung to Finn, of course, he always sung to Finn, every note and every key was to Finn; even if most of the time he wasn't there to hear them.  
But now he was, so he would sing.

"Share with me the blankets that you're wrapped in, because its cold outside cold outside, it's cold outside..."  
Kurt sung quietly for what could possibly be the first time in his life. But he wanted to sing quietly, he didn't want anyone else to hear this but Finn.  
Speaking of Finn, the dear boy looked frantic, scanning the basement.  
"...Finn," Kurt stopped singing, stifling a giggle "What exactly are you looking for?"  
Finn's eyes snapped back to him.  
"A..A blanket! Y...you're cold, right?"  
Kurt raised his eyebrows. This time he _did_ let out a giggle.  
"It's a song, Finn."  
"Ohh..." Finn nodded slowly.  
Kurt picked up where he left off.

"Share with me the secrets that you kept in, because its cold inside cold inside its cold inside... And your slowly shaking finger tips, show that your scared like me, so, let's pretend were alone...and I know you may be scared, and I know we're unprepared, but I don't care..." Kurt's note trailed into the darkness, and he held Finn's hand just slightly tighter in his.  
"Tell me tell me, what makes you think that you are invincible?"  
Kurt did a double take when he heard Finn's voice fill the room. Honestly, this wasn't Kurt's usual brand of music, but for Finn to know the lyrics too? That was just... serendipitous.  
Finn was looking at him uncomfortably, but it wasn't the usual kind, it was like Finn was uncomfortable with what _he_ was doing.  
Then Kurt realised what Finn was singing was coming from the heart.  
"I can see it in your eyes that you're so sure, please don't tell me that I am the only one that's vulnerable..."  
"...Impossible." The word slipped from Kurt's lips, and he snickered internally at the irony.  
Kurt continued. "I was born to tell you I love you, Isn't that a song already?" Finn flinched.  
"I get a B in originality..." Finn sung quietly, his eyes now locked on the floor.  
"And its true I can't go on without you, your smile makes me see clearer," Kurt breathed in a short breath, almost having it knocked out of him all the same.  
He didn't think Finn was going to continue, he was already chewing on his lips. Was this Finn's version of signalling a queue?  
"If you could only see in the mirror what I see..."  
God, was this happening? He was singing with Finn Hudson. Finn _Hudson._  
"... And your slowly shaking finger tips, show that your scared like me, so, let's pretend were alone...and I know you may be scared, and I know we're unprepared, but I don't care..." He repeated his part.  
"Tell me tell me, what makes you think that you are invincible? I can see it in your eyes that you're so sure, please don't tell me that I am the only one that's vulnerable...impossible..." As Finn did his.  
This time Finn did continue.  
"Slow down girl you're not going anywhere, just wait around and see—"  
Kurt laughed, breaking Finn off.  
"Dude!" Finn whined.  
"Exactly!" Kurt choked through his giggles.  
Finn cocked his head to the side.  
"Huh?"  
"I'm a 'dude'" — Air quotes— "I don't really think 'slow down _girl_' is appropriate in the context, Finn."  
Finn blinked, looking remarkably like a newborn puppy, trying to figure out what the hell 'sit' means.  
"Oh... Right. Y'know, it's just sometimes it's hard to tell," Kurt didn't know whether to raise an eyebrow, glare, or slap Finn, so he just sat there.  
"No!" Did Finn finally picked up on how that could be interpreted? Kurt sighed.  
"I mean like, your all pretty and stuff;" This time Kurt's eyebrow did raise.  
"With like your face stuff and special shampoo, how you smell like vanilla and strawberry all mixed together...and when you cook you smell like Mum's pudding sometimes... And all your designer stuff, and like the kind of high voice, oh, do you know you have really long legs too? Like, not giraffe long, but kind of model long? I mean dude, if you had boobs..."  
The other brow was up there now, completing Kurt's 'I can't believe my ears' look.  
Finn's sentence had trailed off, but Kurt didn't need to hear anymore to be as... well, shocked as he was, simply put.

Silence. The damn thing seemed to have it out for them.

"Uhhh... was that um," Finn struggled.  
"...Weird?" Kurt suggested, after he found his voice.  
Finn nodded.  
"Not really, as weird as the night we fell asleep together, I suppose..." He didn't find that night weird at all by the way. Comforting. Warm.  
He averted his eyes from everything that was Finn, but for some reason neither of them let go of one another's hand.  
Kurt felt Finns hand twitch beneath his, and he finally brought his eyes to Finn, who was promptly staring at the floor, again.

"...What's the time?" Kurt piped up.  
Finn reached out across the floor and scrambled for his phone, which had somehow ended up mixed in his Dad's keepsakes.  
Finally, he found it and flipped it open, both the boys squinting at the light.  
"... bout... nine...ish?" Finn mumbled.  
Crap. Had they really been in the basement for _five_ hours? What were they going to tell Burt and Carole?  
Then Kurt noticed something and rolled his eyes.  
"Finn, you're such an imbecile at times, I swear." Kurt turned the phone around in Finn's hand.  
"You had it upside _down. _It's six."  
Finn grinned sheepishly.  
"Oh."  
Then he did a double take.  
"Wait, six? Shit! Rachel wanted me to be at her house at five!"  
Kurt ughed.  
Rachel, _really?_  
Finn ripped himself away from Kurt, and Kurt felt a significant amount of heat leave him.  
"Crap, crap, crap! She's gonna kill me!" He practically ran up the stairs.  
"Cya, Kurt!" He threw over his shoulder, slamming the door of the basement behind him.  
"Auf wiedersehen, Finn Hudson..." A German accent once against grasped at his tongue.  
Kurt was smiling, no doubt sadly, considering his emotions had something against him; always showing themselves when they'd be better locked away—but he was smiling, and that was enough, at least he knew he was feeling, right?  
As he placed Finn's fathers treasures one after the other in the chest, he was humming something painfully cliché, but painfully accurate all the same.  
"On my own, pretending he's beside me..." It wasn't long before Kurt went from hums to quiet singing to completely _belting_ out the song from Les Miserables at the top of his lungs, each note reminding him terribly, painfully, in the most gut-wrenching way that... Finn isn't his.

He's Rachel's.  
Finn is probably holding her right now, kissing her.

He would _never_ be his.

And he never was.

So, if Finn was never Kurt's in the first place, that means Finn was never his to miss.  
So why _does_ he?  
Why _does_ he wish he was the one, the object of Finn's affections?  
That he was the one reason for his smiles, the one receiving those awkward kisses?

And why, when he thinks of him, why is it that _Kurt, _of all people_,_ lights up? Like _Kurt's_ the sun? You see, Kurt only really has one light, and that was given to him by Finn.

So, can you tell him something? Answer a question that's been at the back of his mind, ever since Day 1 of knowing Finn Hudson?

Why, Finn Hudson, are you so damn _contagious?_  
**  
-**

**Ugh, ok. This didn't turn out how I wanted it to at _all._ I mean, resorting to Les Miserables?  
I repeat; ugh.  
Though, it didn't turn out too badly at first, I do realise it's incredibly rushed nearing the end, and it turned out simply _weak_ in my opinion.  
But I suppose it's 2:43AM and i've been working on this for a week now and just wanted to get it posted.  
Can you blame me?  
Anyway, i hope it turned out ok, like i said above i do have another chapter planned, but should I go through with it?  
Eh... I'm just hoping you guys liked it.  
I have a feelings i faaaaailed.  
God, im a loser already and this is only my second post  
*flops*  
Oh, sorry for spelling/grammar issues. Once again, 2:43. Wait, 2:59. Might as well be 3.  
Gnerf. **

**Songs: **

**Vulnerable – Secondhand Serenade  
On My Own – Les Miserables**

** EDIT: Thankyou to inuharrytwiclique for pointing out to me that Finn's fathers name was Christopher. I swear I spent at least an hour last night trying to look for it but I couldn't remember for the life of me what it was.**  
**Thanks again C:**


End file.
